


Failure

by ShazzyStuff



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: F/M, Last Stand Of Dead Men, Thrasher's a Cutie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShazzyStuff/pseuds/ShazzyStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scapegrace is feeling down.<br/>Thrasher does his best to cheer him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Failure

**Author's Note:**

> *Sigh* I love these two.

Scapegrace leant against his broom as he stared at the wooden boards on the floor He was meant to be sweeping. Of course he was. But for now he just didn't feel like it. Scapegrace had been doing of lot of moping this week and it was deeply upsetting for Thrasher to watch. Every time Thrasher tried to help though, Scapegrace pushed him away and ordered him to clean glasses or dust the bar. Scapegrace would never admit it but he did in fact enjoy having Thrasher as company. He offered some kind of comfort, however annoying it may be. For some reason though, Thrasher would always come back and try again. He was always trying to do something to cheer his master up. Even if it didn't work, Thrasher still persisted. Even if it meant getting clipped round the ear, Thrasher persisted. 

Thrasher watched Scapegrace moping from behind the bar. He would've been cleaning glasses but some thugs had come in and smashed most of them. He sighed and stepped out from the bar and made his way over to Scapegrace. "Master, how about we go upstairs and listen to some music?" he suggested. Scapegrace didn't look even acknowledge him. "Well, how about you get your sword and train? I know how you like to fight" Thrasher smiled, trying to peer in to Scapegrace's face. Scapegrace turned his head to the side, away from Thrasher. It was at this moment that Thrasher noticed Scapegrace's shoulders shaking slightly. "Master...?" he said. Scapegrace sniffled and brought his hand to his eyes.  
"What's the point?" he muttered, "what's the point in fighting if you're a failure?"  
Tears started to escape the beautiful round eyes on Scapegrace's face as he heaved a loud sob. He clutched on to the broom for support so that he didn't just drop to his knees. Thrasher was lost for words, he's never seen his master cry before. "M-Master...you're not-"  
"Yes I am, Thrasher!" Scapegrace cried, "look at me! I was a failure in my original body. I called myself the 'Killer Supreme' yet I never actually killed anyone. As a zombie I tried leading a horde and look how that turned out. Hell, even in my new body I'm a failure! I walk down the streets and men are ogling at me in my new body and I hate it."  
Thrasher wanted to offer words of comfort but there was a lump in his throat that he couldn't remove so Scapegrace carried on.  
"I try running a pub and it's been smashed to bloody pieces because I can't play the role of a hero" said Scapegrace, struggling to talk and hiccupping slightly, "this pub was the only thing I had left and now... now..."  
He trailed off and glanced around the place. Smashed glasses, a broken table, a broken chair. More tears streamed down Scapegrace's cheeks and he spun around to face Thrasher properly. "Look at me" he said, "can you honestly look at me and tell me that I'm not a failure?"  
Thrasher took a moment so that he could choose his words carefully. Eventually he said, "you may think that you have nothing left but... you have me, Master." Scapegrace stared up at him, unable to speak. "And no, I don't think you're a failure" he added, "because I'm still here with you. If you were really that much of a failure would I still be here?"

Thrasher was crying now, hot and heavy tears dripped from his chin. He wrapped his arms around Scapegrace's slim waist and held him closely and tightly - tucking his chin just on top of his shoulder. Scapegrace let his broom clatter to the wooden floor and he lifted his arms up. He embraced Thrasher and wound his arms around the muscular torso. "You're worth so much, Master" sobbed Thrasher. Scapegrace shook beneath Thrasher's big hands.  
"Y-you' re such an idiot, Th-Thrasher!" Scapegrace bawled as he held on tighter. He pulled away with an almost non-existent smile in place. "You mean it though?" he added. Thrasher nodded solemnly, taking one of Scapegrace's hands in his own.  
"I mean every word of it, Master" said Thrasher, "because I-I...."  
Scapegrace's cheeks went a bright pink and he abruptly picked up his previously dropped broom. "Go clean the bar" he ordered.  
"But Master, I already have" Thrasher frowned.  
"Do it again!" said Scapegrace, getting even pinker as he swept at the speed of light.  
Thrasher shook his head in disappointment. "Yes, Master."

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my friend Jamie who helps me with my fanfiction.  
> Hats off to you.


End file.
